


Sober Up

by Vanjalina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drinking, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Morning After, Post-Hogwarts, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 08:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17998802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanjalina/pseuds/Vanjalina
Summary: Harry is having a quiet life after graduating from Hogwarts. But then he throws a party, and it ends with a very unexpected, and not really appropriate guest for the night. After that, nothing is the same any more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First I'd like to thank Arabellagaleotti, my beta reader, for the wonderful work she has done. Then I would also like to take the chance to dedicate this to Tana, who would love this story. I hope you do too.
> 
> And no, all these wonderful people and places are not mine, they're just borrowed from the one and only J. K. Rowling.

It was Saturday night, and Grimmauld Place was filled with warm lights and laughter.

A lot of laughter, actually, a fair deal of discussions and a decent amount of alcohol. In other words, it was a party, and in addition to that a successful one. Everyone seemed to be having a great time and it was as rowdy as a frat house on the first day back.

Harry and Hermione had talked about how all their old school-mates just had disappeared since the war ended and the world had started to make sense again. They thought that it would be nice to meet them, say hi, hear what their life was like now.

So, they came up with the idea about a party. A big party. Not just inviting the old Gryffindors, but also _all_ those people they went to school with. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, too. And then they got in a bit of a disagreement; Harry wanted _all_ of their old classmates, and Hermione said that the Slytherins could just shove it. He insisted that, in the spirit of the new world, everyone should have a chance to start over, and a party at _his_ house, of all people, would be a great place to do it. At which Hermione answered that Slytherins were untrustworthy, insidious and unpleasant, and would be no fun at a party.

In the end Harry got as he wanted, since – as he put it – was his bloody house, and he’s the host, so he got to invite whoever he liked. Hermione eventually agreed, stating that none of them would dare to come anyway.

Harry had thought about it for some time, and then started to compose a letter to no else than Draco Malfoy. He wrote about everybody starting a new life, and how, as far as he was concerned, everyone got a clean slate, no matter who they were during the war or what they did. It’s all over now. A chance to do something with their lives. The two of them had a lot of bad blood between them and this was not a try for some mutual understanding all of a sudden, but maybe they could aim for civil at least? And this was not only a social call, it was also a wish for help. He wanted the Slytherins at the party, and if Malfoy would suggest for them to go, there would probably be at least a small group who actually attended.

He added the letter to the invitation everyone else got, and hoped for the best. First he was in doubt if it was a good idea to send it, since he got no answer from Malfoy. But as time went on he got, to his pleasure, a handful of Slytherins, including Malfoy, who accepted the invitation.

And now the party was up to speed, and everybody seemed to have a good time. The Slytherins were a bit reserved at the beginning, but after some time they actually dared to join the party too. There had been some acidic looks their way, especially from the Gryffindors, but that mostly subsided with time too.

Somewhere in the middle of the party two Gryffindors met in the hallway.

“I see that you've got something to drink, that's good.” Hermione gestured at the other girl's glass.

“Yeah, I'm honestly not really sure what it is, but it's good.” Ginny swirled the liquid around in the glass, coming alarming close to tip it over the edge. “Harry got it for me before he disappeared.”

“Harry disappeared?” There was worry in her voice.

The read-head girl's face turned sour. “No, not disappeared like he's missing. More like... well... see for yourself. Up the stairs and to the right. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to ignore my boyfriend for a while, because I honestly think we'll both be happier that way.” With a toss of her glossy head she turned around and headed back to the party.

Hermione was curious, what’s going on? Was Ginny jealous? She took her glass and headed upstairs.

She poked her head into the usually spare room. And there Harry was, sitting in one of two chairs pulled up in the corner. His glass was standing on the small table between the chairs, and he was leaning in over the table with a focused face. All this was perfectly in order. But, in the other chair was Draco Malfoy, and that was really not in order. He seemed relaxed, and was tilting his head in an interested way, speaking to Harry with the same focus. She tried to hear what they were saying, but it was in vain. With a sigh she decided that Ginny had the right approach to it all, and without further ado, left the room again.

  
o O o

  
“But you need to have had _some_ overlapping with Muggles. You've really never been to Muggle London?” Harry lifted his glass, taking a sip of amber-coloured liquid.

“Why should I? You don't seem to understand that I have nothing to gain from fraternising with Muggles. What can they possibly give me?” The disdain was clear, but in some way not as poisonous as it used to be.

“What about curiosity? Don't you ever wonder if they're as different as you believe they are?” Leaning on one elbow, Harry put down the glass. He should be angry, irritated and fed up with the Slytherin. Instead he found himself interested in his former enemy, excited even. But then again, maybe this is what happens when six years of school-boy hate turns to civility. All those feelings have to go somewhere, right?

“Curiosity? I don't know... Are you curious about the lives of pigeons?” There was some hesitation in his eyes. “You say that they drive those cars wherever they go? Paying so much money to take them the short distances? Never mind, I take back what I said, not even pigeons are that stupid.”

Harry looked up at him, surprised. Was that a _joke_? From _Draco Malfoy_? That _didn’t_ involve him in some immature, humiliating way?

“They did invent cars though. Aren't you the slightest bit curious about that kind of intelligence? It's complicated stuff, after all.” Suddenly this was a game, and he could see the same competitiveness in the other boy's eyes. The feeling was like a swirl in his stomach, and he felt excitement rise from his ribcage, hammering in his chest, the same rush as he used to get on the Quidditch field before he left school.

“You're trying to prove that Muggles are intelligent too? I don't know, they seem pretty stupid to me.” Now the disdain in his eyes had got accompanied by something else, not necessarily _nice_ , but definitely teasing.

Harry emptied his glass and put it down a little bit harder than he had to, giving the other boy an excusing look. “What about love? You can't tell me that they aren't exactly like us in that way.”

“Well...” He looked hesitant now, but quickly turning dismissive. “What do I know about love?”

Victory rushed through his veins. Satisfied, he took a sip from his glass, just to realise that it was empty. “Hold that thought, I need to refill my glass. Should I fill yours up too?”

Malfoy emptied his glass in one and silently held it out. Harry suddenly felt something strain. Or, not quite ‘ _strain’_ , but definitely some kind of tension. Walking down the stairs he thought about the absurdness, him and Malfoy talking without wanting to hit the other.

He refilled their glasses and headed back up the stairs. Upon entering the room he stopped and studied his conversational partner. Malfoy was leaning on one of the arms of the chair, staring out in front of himself, obviously lost in thoughts. Starting to walk over to him he felt the same exhilaration rise again, with something else he couldn't really put his finger on.

Soon they were back in their discussion again, so deeply that he was surprised when the first guests came to say goodnight. Somewhere in the back of his head something told him that sitting in a corner with the most despised Slytherin of all the whole night wasn't really the best behaviour for a host, but he had so much fun that he couldn't help himself.

The first guests were follower by others, obviously the party was coming to an end. He supposed that it was late, but he felt wide awake, all of him sparking with his neutrons, and couldn't get himself to care.

There was a tense moment when Ginny turned up, declaring that she was going home now, and _hopefully_ Harry would be interested in talking to her tomorrow. She turned on her heel and stormed out. Looking up at the Slytherin, he found amusement in the other's eyes. Without being able to stop himself he rolled his eyes and felt one of the corners of his mouth starting to twitch. Making fun of Ginny was not usually on his agenda, but tonight everything was a tad absurd, and honestly, what was she bitching about? Just because he had been a bit busy tonight? Some time later Hermione appeared in the doorway too, stating that she was the last one to go, and she bid them a good night. The look she gave them was a bit confused, and he couldn't blame her. If he was honest, he was too.

It took even more time, but finally a reluctant Malfoy stated that maybe he should be getting going too. Both walked down the stairs without a word until they reached the fireplace.

Harry stood silent, looking around and trying to find something to say. Anything really. The tension from before was back, this time with full strength, and he didn't dare to look at the other boy. What was happening, really? He saw in the corner of his eye how Malfoy took a step, not towards the fireplace, but towards him. The excitement inside him rose, and that other, undefined, feeling was tickling inside him, curling up to throb in his gut until he thought it would drive him mad. Then two things happened at the same time. The Slytherin took another step towards him, and he finally realised what kind of feeling that was.

 _Desire_.

Taking a step forward he decimated the last of the space between them, ending up so close that they almost touched each other. He started to say something, but realised that there was really not so much to say right now, the time for talking was over.

Not thinking any more, just feeling, he put one hand on his guest's shoulder, and the other behind his head. He felt a pair of arms close around him, and when he pulled him close and put his lips against the other boy's it was just _glorious_. He marvelled over the soft lips pressed against his, and noticed a lingering taste of the firewhiskey they had been sipping all night.

And no, he had no intentions to stop. Sometimes his other thoughts tried to get through the lovely haze of pleasure, of Malfoy pressed against him, of his wandering hands. Those thoughts were very low in volume, and it was quite easy to drown them out with just another kiss. He wanted this, intensely, more than he wanted air. He wasn’t sure how long they had been kissing when Malfoy leaned back a little.

“Does this nice house of yours come with a bed?”

  
o O o

  
A curious ray of late morning-sun searched its way through the room, and a drowsy Harry wondered why he hadn't closed the curtains last night.

Still almost sleeping, he turned around for some more sleep, just to find that there was someone else in the bed. Someone who was _not_ Ginny.

Slowly, the day before started to come back. The party, their discussion, the kissing... what happened after. He remembered how wonderful it felt, how he craved it, all the excitement inside him, the need, the bliss, all of it. Looking at the sleeping boy he tried to think. There was a boy in his bed. Not that he had been recoiling from the thought earlier in his life, but he didn't think it would happen like this.

Now.

With this person.

There was a _Malfoy_ in his bed. That was a more disturbing thought. Malfoy, who happened to be a boy, just like him, was sleeping in his bed, and not in an innocent way. No, it was honestly not important. Because important was who wasn't lying there. Ginny.

He now had two alternatives, and both of them sucked. He could be honest and tell Ginny about this... adventure. She would be extremely hurt, and insanely pissed off. There wouldn’t be an end to the drama. The other alternative was to keep quiet about it all, shielding her from all the pain. Hopefully everything would be good then, and the only thing he had to fight was his own bad conscience. Well, no one in their right mind wanted to fight Ginny. Who actually could be here any moment now. For some reason that thought didn't give him the panic it should. He looked at his night guest again, willing some of the excitement from yesterday to surface. But no. It was as if he was locked out from yesterday’s feelings, now left with only confusion and a little bit of shame. He had felt so _much_ yesterday, but now it all seemed to be gone. It was probably best, and easiest, that way.

Getting out of bed he looked around for his clothes, finding his trousers on the floor. He put them on, and went back to the four-poster bed where Malfoy lay, huddled under the covers, face unguarded and innocent in sleep. Leaning over the Slytherin, he put a hand on his shoulder and shook it carefully.

“Malfoy? Malfoy, you have to leave.”

A pair of tired, grey eyes met his. The owner observed him in silence for a moment, and then started to scan the floor for his clothes.

“I'll be in the drawing room,” Harry told him, scurrying out of his bedroom.

Harry managed to get himself to the kitchen, a bit slow after the party, but he succeeded in making some coffee. Taking his cup with him, he went to the drawing room and threw himself down in a big armchair. It was comfortable, and for a moment he forgot all about the night. A noise from above reminded him, and he flew back from his bubble of oblivion. He started thinking about what happened after the party was over.

It had started earlier, he saw that now. That strange tension between them, now he can see it for what it was. He knew, logically, that he should regret it, feel all distressed over cheating on his girlfriend, but he just...didn't. Yesterday was a very nice memory, something he sure didn't want to be without. Today it was over, probably for the best, but yesterday it was fantastic.

Steps on the stairs broke his thoughts, but they kept going past the door, and in the direction of the kitchen, where the floo was located. After a little while he could hear the woosh of the floo, and knew that Malfoy was gone. He heaved a sigh of relief, he didn't realise how much he had dreaded small talking with him this morning.

But deep down something stung. He didn't even say goodbye. Maybe it wasn't really disappointment, but something did hurt.


	2. Chapter 2

After finishing his coffee he decided that a shower was a good place to start, and then a change of clothes.

He knew Ginny pretty well by now, and she was not one to mull the same thing over and over again, drawing out on the confrontation. If she was mad at you she came over and told you so.

At once.

Which meant that she would most probably be here any minute.

He managed showering and dressing, and had ended up in the kitchen, thinking about making some breakfast, when the sound of the fireplace announced someone's arrival.

Sure enough, it was Ginny.

“Good morning, Harry.” There was a certain edge to her words, but otherwise she looked cool and unaffected.

“Good morning. Do you want some breakfast? I'm going to...” He trailed off when he saw her face. Maybe not that cool after all. “Tea?”

“Yes, please.” She sat down at the table, and watched in silence.

While fixing her tea he considered breakfast, but opted out and settled for another coffee. Carrying the cups to the table he put the tea down in front of her, and sat down with his coffee in the chair opposite her. Carefully he inspected her face and body language. Irritated, yes, but not really pissed off. That was good at least.

“So, did you have a good time yesterday?” He could try, right?

“Harry. You know that I'm mad at you. Don't even think about it.”

“Okay, fine. What's the matter?” It’s a stupid question, but he had to say something. Because, even if Ginny was angry, he hadn't really done something wrong. At least not at far as she knew.

“I have three words for you. Draco _freaking_ Malfoy. What were you thinking?”

“Honestly Ginny, we were just talking. No harm done.” Well, he hadn't realised that it would take this much lying to her. But, he would be fine. She didn’t have a clue, she had no reason to suspect anything close to what really happened. Who would ever fantasise about Potter and Malfoy in the same bed?

Heaving a big sigh, she gave him a stern look. “I talked to Hermione, she said that it was you who insisted that the Slytherins should be invited too. Are you trying to tell me that the two of you never have exchanged a word before the party? As civilised persons, that is.” She seemed to have forgotten her tea and looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“What? You think... No! Of course not. We did not know each other before the party, that's absurd. You know how we are. Were. Or maybe are, I don't know where we stand now.” No, he definitely didn't know where they stood. Maybe he hadn't being really nice, just throwing him out, but they both knew that Harry had a girlfriend. And they were Potter and Malfoy, there could never be anything more than civilised cease-fire between them. It was strange how much that thought stung. Yesterday, while the party was on, it had been pleasant. More than just pleasant, it was really nice. He would have loved to continue that discussion. Or have another. He could so see it, the two of them, sitting in the big armchairs in the drawing room, rain beating on the windows, two cups of hot tea, and-

“Hello, Harry?” His girlfriend waved a hand in front of his face, not looking really pleased. “We had a discussion here, remember?”

“Yes, sorry, I got lost in thoughts. Blame yesterday's whiskey.”

A shade of a smile glimmered on her face, and she shook her head. “Have you ever heard of temperance?” The smile disappeared and she got serious again. “Are you going to tell me how you even could manage to be in Malfoy's company all night?”

All night. If she only knew exactly how true that statement was. “I guess my excuse will once again be the content of my glass.”

“Meaning?”

“Well, after a couple of drinks you start to get a bit indifferent. Losing judgement. Plainly, I was not sober.” No he wasn't. But this morning he had been. Painfully sober, excusing his unpleasant hangover. And he was, once again, not really honest with his girlfriend. There had been some glasses during the night, but they had slowed down the pace as it got later, and honestly those glasses hadn't been too many. Had they been a bit drunk? Yes. Intoxicated enough not to know what decisions they made? Definitely not. Most likely they had never made it to bed if it wasn't for the alcohol, but the want between them had been very real. The frantic undressing of each other, fumbling with buttons, everything feeling so right. And not just right, but perfectly natural. Moving to the bed-

“Harry! Now you're doing it again. Honestly.” His girlfriend seemed to be losing patience.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” Thank Merlin that Ginny never learned legilimency.

“You better snap out of it before tonight.”

“Tonight, why?” He had to stop thinking about last night and start thinking about his beautiful, talented, caring girlfriend. A gust of bad conscience hit him. If he really loved her, how could he treat her so badly? Maybe he should tell her? But no. He loved her, so he would not hurt her. It made perfect sense.. Everyone would be happier this way.

By now Ginny really looked to be at the end of her patience. “My place. Dinner. My parents and brothers. Ring a bell?”

“Oh, right. That.”

“Yes, _that_. And I don't want any cancellation, definitely not one blaming hangover. You'll go to that dinner, no matter what state you're in. Is that clear?”

There was a sudden wave of warmth rushing up inside him, and he felt a smile working its way through. This was his Ginny. Fierce, purposeful and determined. He supposed he should be worried when she got a voice like steel, but he couldn't help feeling that she was something special, and she was his. Suddenly all the warmth disappeared and his insides got ice-cold. What if he told her, and she didn't forgive him? What if she left him? That was certainly a risk, and a risk he was not prepared to take. He was not worried that Malfoy should talk, for some reason he didn't believe that he would say anything to anyone. He had a hard time seeing how him doing... those things they did... with Harry would fall well out with the upper class Slytherins.

“Harry, for crying out loud, you're blushing! What the hell are you thinking about?”

“Um. It involves you and me and preferably my bed, but the last one is kind of optional.” This lying started to get out of hand, especially when the lies were as bad as this one. But it seemed to work.

“Oh, come on. Get a grip.” Her voice was a little less sharp though, and there was a shade of a smile in the corner of her mouth. “Is _that_ what you're sitting here thinking about?”

“There are worse things to think about, don't you think?” At least, this was not a lie.

  
o O o

  
He made it to dinner with the Weasley’s; satisfying Ginny and escaping further scolding. His mind kept wandering back to the night before; the drinks, the talk, the kitchen, the bed. Whatever he was doing, those thoughts sneaked in and sidetracked him, and he was just lucky that he woke up of his half-dreaming state and remembered to go to the Burrow. But when he was there it was easier to focus. Both Ron and George was there too, and it was a lot of talking and laughing around the dinner table. After dinner Mr. and Mrs. Weasley withdrew to the living room, while the four youths stayed in the kitchen. Ginny had placed herself in his lap.

“You need to be nice to Harry today, he's got a hangover. Not that it isn't his own fault.” She put a careful kiss on Harry's nose.

“I wish I knew earlier that you got kisses when you've got a hangover.” The oldest of the bunch, George,  faked a serious face. “In that case I would have gotten a girl with me home yesterday. I would so get kissed today.” He looked at his younger brother. “And I can't see you getting any kisses. Oh yeah, right. To get a hangover you have to drink. For real. If you had been drinking like the rest of us...”

“ I’d still get more kisses than you. If Hermione was here...” The punch that hit his brother's arm was light and playful, even if he tried to look superior.

“But she's not here. At home with a hangover? In that case I would hurry there, you never know who administers the kisses.”George punched Ron on the shoulder, and Ron tilted before righting himself.

Ron rubbed his arm and glared at the offender. “No, she's not at home with a hangover. And even if she was, I wouldn't be worried. You see, unlike you, Harry and I never have to worry about our girls cheating on us. They wouldn't dream of doing anything like that.”

Something cold moved inside Harry. His friend was right. Ginny would never treat him that way. He, on the other hand... It was confusing. He had always seen himself as a pretty nice guy. Kind. Maybe bent on doing some mischief every now and then, but never to hurt someone. The truth was that yesterday, he didn't think. Just felt. And he couldn't even blame the drinks, the feelings between them had been there most of the night, and they were more than something fabricated by alcohol. The real problem came a step later though. Because he just felt – and then he acted on those feelings.

Those actions were wrong, he knew that, and he knew that he should be regretting his actions and the guilt should be immense. But that was the thing. There definitely was _some_ guilt, he had been unfaithful, and that did not go well with his moral values. Regret though, there was none. Yesterday had been so perfect, he couldn't get himself to regret that. He would never had imagined that Malfoy would have such soft skin, or that it would feel so good under his fingers. And then the other boy's arm around him...

“He's been doing that all day. Harry, hello?” His girlfriend affectionately tousled his hair.

“Did you hear what I said at all? About Friday?” Ron looked at him with an amused smile.

“Um, sorry, no.” He really had to stop these distracting thoughts. “Once more, please. What did you say about Friday?”

“I said that a lot of people are going to meet at the Leaky Cauldron. We decided that we saw each other too rarely at the party yesterday. Hannah suggested that those who wanted would come there and take a beer together. And a lot of us are going. What about you?”

Ginny giggled. “Hermione says that the only reason that Hannah came up with the idea is to get an excuse to meet Neville again.”

All the three present boys looked more or less totally uninterested of this fact, only George winked at his sister. Their brother tried again though.

“Well, Harry, are you coming?”

“I don't know. Ginny, are you going?”

“Sorry, no. I'm already occupied that night. But we don't have to go together, you go if you feel like it.” His girlfriend smiled at him when she saw his hesitation. “I'm serious, this is not one of these girlfriend-tricks where you're supposed to protest and declare that you never would go anywhere without me. I mean it. Go.”

“Well, in that case...” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, and then turned to Ron. “Yeah, I'll come. It'll be fun.”

  
o O o

  
It was raining Friday afternoon, an insistent pattering on windows and a good deal of wind outside. Harry was forced out for a short errand, once  back inside he was extra satisfied to be a wizard and not have to go outside again tonight. He was looking forward to a relaxed night with his friends, a couple of beers maybe, and just enjoying himself.

Ron and George would be there. Most likely Neville, though he might be otherwise engaged during the night, at least if you should believe Hermione. Otherwise he had no real idea who would be there, but he supposed that it would just be a bunch of the old DA members.. He wished for some of the others too, there was a lot of people he would like to know better. People he was supposed to socialise with at the party, and instead... For a second he tried to stop the memories, but then gave up.

He had managed to shape up a little and focus on other things throughout the last few days, but, really, what was so bad with a little daydreaming? So much to relive, to remember. What really stood out was late at night, or maybe early morning, when they were laying next to each other. They were facing each other, both perfectly relaxed and starting to get a bit sleepy. They had their fingers laced together and were just looking at each other in silence. Malfoy had let go of Harry's hand, and instead started to doodle patterns with his finger on Harry's shoulder and upper arm. The soft touch felt wonderful, and he was aware that his eyelids started to droop. A gentle voice told him to go to sleep, and he had followed that suggestion, drifting away gently, buoyed by Malfoy’s finger still drawing, now scribbling across his chest. The last thing crossing his mind before drifting off was a dull sadness that the night was over, and then he was asleep.

With a twitch he pulled himself out of his memories. Even though it was nice to think about, it was definitely over.

Anyway,  he had a pub to visit. He walked over to the fireplace, and short after he was standing in the Leaky Cauldron. Ron was sitting with some friends from DA at one of the wooden tables, and he waved for Harry to come over.

This was what he needed. He made a detour to the bar, grabbing a beer.

There were greetings from around the table when he finally sat down, and he raised his glass at them. Still feeling very content he looked around in the room. There were Neville and Hannah, just as Hermione predicted. George was sitting with some other Gryffindors, and at the table next to the wall... He felt the bottom fall out of his stomach. At a small, out-of-the-way table were a small group of Slytherins. And yes, among them were Malfoy. He knew he was staring, and he knew he shouldn't. With great effort he tore his eyes from the blond, and focused at the beer instead. The beer and which different counter-curses you used in formal duels. Halfway down his drink Terry Boot hit him with his elbow.

“You're very quiet tonight.” The Ravenclaw boy gave him an encouraging smile.

“Oh...” All he managed was an articulate, “...lot to think about.”

Ron waved his glass at him. “But not tonight. Let go of all that everyday life and have some fun. Cheers!”

The others at the table joined in, and after a last glance toward the Slytherin table, Harry did too.

After his first beer was finished and he had started on his second, he felt that he was following Ron's advice; letting all the stress and unwanted thoughts just sail away. He realised that he had a really good time.

True, he sent an eye Malfoy's way every now and then, next time he looked his way, Malfoy was already looking at him. Their eyes met, and for a second it was almost hard to breathe.

Then the Slytherin boy looked away, said something to his friends, stood up and left the room. In a split second Harry made his decision. Emptying his beer he stood up, excused himself and walked resolutely over to where the boy had disappeared.

Soon he found himself in a small, dead-end corridor, pretty short but also most likely not well-used, probably used for supplies or apparating long ago. Malfoy leaned against the wall and looked at him. He stopped, not sure what to do, or why he really was here in the first place. While he tried to process that, two things went clear, he wasn’t sure which irritated him most; the fact that Malfoy obviously had been waiting for him on this secluded place, or that he actually had followed him here.

“Malfoy.” He nodded, a bit stiffly.

A small, enigmatic smile woke on the blond's face. “Potter.”

It was the smile that did it. He remembered how they had been kissing for some time, and then he had looked at him with that goddamn _smile_. Like he knew something funny that no one else did.

Right now, it was all it took. Without thinking, again, he decimated the distance between them in decided strides. When he reached the boy he pushed him against the wall, standing as close as he could, he kissed him. The kiss was a bit rougher, but just as nice as last time, and the feeling of a high-energy current running through his body made him hyper aware of his momentary partner. Suddenly Malfoy made a quick move, and soon Harry found himself pressed up against the wall instead. Not that he objected, but took the chance to pant for air. The other boy looked at him with intense eyes.

“I knew it.” The Slytherin's smile was more triumphant now. His smile  was still in place when he leaned in to kiss him again.

For all that Harry knew, the seasons could have changed while they were kissing, but when they stepped apart it still felt far too short . Right now all he could do was look at the other.

His thoughts were like wild birds, scattering into the sky of his mind, and with some effort he managed to focus on something practical. He did knew that he himself had a particularly unruly hair, and that if someone pulled their fingers through it, it wouldn't make much of a difference. Malfoy on the other hand had a nice hairstyle. _Had_ , like in past tense. Because Harry might have had his hands in the other boy's hair at some time or another during the kisses, and the hairdo was now suggesting doubtful activities to anyone who saw it.

“Malfoy, I think you'd like to... fix your hair.”

He laughed quietly, a carefree sound. “Why, is it telling tales about us?”

“Um, yes.” A slight blush coloured his cheeks.

“Ah, well, I guess I have to look into that.” With a thoughtful face he tilted his head and looked questioningly at Harry. “Might I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What will happen when you get sober again? About this? About us?” Neither smile nor laughter were anywhere to be seen now.

“I... I don't know.” It was true. He had no idea if everything would be gone again when he sobered up. Something inside him protested firmly at that thought, but he wasn't sure. “And I'm sorry, but there is no us.”

“I see.” Nonchalantly he brushed some invisible dirt off his sleeve.

“Malfoy, I have a _girlfriend_ , for crying out loud. I can't just ignore that.”

“You could have fooled me.” There was something cold in his voice, but his eyes couldn't help but betraying some pain.

“Oh, God.” He hid his face in a hand for a couple of seconds before looking up again. “I'm sorry, but I do have a girlfriend and I have some obligations towards her.”

“Those things don't necessary last forever.” Both his face and his voice was perfectly neutral now.

“I love her.” A self-ironic smile appeared. “I know it can be hard to believe right now, but I do. It's just...” The smile disappeared again, and he looked helplessly at the blond.

The feeling on his face was hard to describe, somewhere between disdain and resignation. “Potter, I'm not asking for your undying love here, if that's what you believe.”

“Of course not. That's not even on the map.” Why did it sting so much to say that? “I'm just trying to get you to understand that... whatever this is it's not anything that we can go public with. Ginny would eat me alive, there would be a whole lot of ruckus, and not to talk about how the Weasley brothers would have your head on a plate. You're sensible enough to see that, aren't you?”

“Don't worry. I won't tell your dark secrets and I'll see that you're safe from retribution. I do like my head, after all.”

“Good. Because I think the best is if we just pretend that this never happened.”

This shouldn’t have happened, he never should have followed Malfoy, he never should have kissed him. He had been cheating on Ginny, _again_. If he just could find out what it was with this captivating boy. Why he was so drawn to him, couldn't get enough of him. Everything about him was alluring, his looks, his scent, the way he smiled, and when they touched... “Did you hear me? This never happened!”

“I hear you, loud and clear.” What was moving inside, behind those grey eyes, was impossible to say.

Harry turned to go, and had just reached the end of the corridor when he heard a low voice behind him.

“Do you regret it?”

Suddenly he could just not bear to think any more about what he should say, what he had to say, what was the right thing to say. He turned around with a face filled with resignation and despair. “No, I don't.” Then he continued to walk, soon turned the corner and was out of sight.

  
o O o

  
“Come on, Harry! It's wonderful in the air today.” Ginny went into a steep dive, just to pull up in the last second.

“I know, just a moment and I'll be right there.” He saw her spiralling up and away, racing George to the big oak, and then starting a row of acrobatics in the air. Slowly he sat down on the bench put there for spectators, and laid down his broom beside him. He loved to fly, that was true, but right now he was so filled with conflicting thoughts that he doubted that he would even rise from the ground.

His latest meeting with Malfoy kept haunting him, as if the memories of their night together wasn't enough. He couldn't help himself, but he was coming back to those heavenly kisses all the time. Soft, but demanding. Sweet, but powerful. Intense, and just pure pleasure. Their hands, their bodies. He could stay in those thoughts forever. And that was not why he was sitting here, so he firmly pushed them aside and took hold of his real problem. Ginny. He had cheated on her twice, now. The first time, it could be written off, too much to drink, Ginny angry with him, not excused but given a reason. The second… that was inexcusable. What did that say about their relationship?

Whatever it did, he knew it wasn’t good. He’s not sure when it started, maybe it was there from the start? That creeping inadequacy, the feeling that he wasn’t good enough. Ginny was fire, she was all in bold, and he’s not sure if he can hold all that. He’d probably end up smothering the flames.

He looked up at her. It was, in many ways, so easy with her. She was perfect for him. All he ever wanted, all he ever needed. Right? And yes, he didn't need anything else than her, and she was everything he could need. And not just need, she was also exactly what he wanted. She had it all, he couldn't ask for anything but her.

“ _Except a certain male body to hold close in the dark,”_ a little voice whispered inside his head. He quickly got rid of the thought.

It was no secret that Ginny had been in love with him since forever, he was her perfect match. You got a bit light-headed thinking about it. They were perfect together, and everyone knew it. Yes. Everyone told them how good they were as a couple, how well they fitted together, and how they complemented each other. How they just were meant to be. He knew that he had been crazy in love with Ginny right after the war, but somehow he felt like this chorus of encouraging voices was suffocating him.

“Ha-a-arry!” After coming out of a loop and then greatly decreasing her speed, the girl in question landed next to him. “What are you doing? Come and fly with me.”

“I'm coming.” Picking up his broom he went towards her with a smile. Flying with Ginny was fun. She was fast and competitive, so you always got a few good races in. He kicked off hard and shoot up in the air above her. “Come, I'll race you!” He couldn't help laughing, the feeling of freedom, to fly free from his mortal problems on the ground, leave all of it behind, filling him.

They flew for quite a while, and Harry was having a really good time. It was far too long since he last was up in the air, and when he was flying, he was flying. No room for brooding. There weren't enough of them to make teams for quidditch, but they had an old ball and practised passing for a while.

After a couple hours George announced that he was done for the day, and Harry hurried to make him company. They talked a bit about the professional quidditch game that would take place next Saturday, none of them planned to miss it. They fell silent eventually, even though he had a feeling that Ginny's brother was on the brink to say something a couple of times, but thought better of it every time.

Outside the Burrow he went his own way, telling George that he wanted to take a walk before dinner, but he couldn't really make heads or tails of the look the other boy gave him. The Weasley nodded though, said that yes, maybe he needed a walk. It felt like as if the older boy saw right through him, when he disappeared inside Harry was left standing and looking after him in confusion. In that case, he wished that George said whatever he wanted to say, if he even did.

It was a nice afternoon for a walk, sunny but cool. He took a small path away from the house and over the fields. He could feel how the repetitive motion of putting one foot in front of the other in combination with how his body started to work and the high air was filling him with calm. His mind started to move on in a pleasurable pace, and he could feel how his thoughts started to line up in comprehensible rows. School, work, friends; all those things that he was worrying about. In everyday life at least. Now he had the storm cloud that was Malfoy too, but with great effort he cleared his mind of those far too tempting thoughts. And then he was finally at his destination – Ginny. Because he felt suffocated by other people's expectations, he had to admit that. Everyone spoke of how they should be together for an eternity, because they were simply meant to be. And right now he started to doubt that. They were “supposed to be”, and he angrily wondered who had the power to decide that? There was no magical destiny keeping them together, they had fallen in love, and now they were together. Easy as pie. The big question now was a pretty uncomfortable matter. How much of it was love and how much was expectations? He thought about Ginny's happy face when they were kissing in the common room back in school, and he couldn't help but smiling. No, he had been very much in love, no doubt about that. But now? Honestly he was not sure. But he had a feeling that when this walk was over he'd better be.

Suddenly he couldn't help himself any more. His inner vision was totally eclipsed by images of Malfoy. Smiling with his hair standing on its end in the Leaky Cauldron. The reluctant but interested face in the corner chair of Grimmauld Place. His body late at night in Harry's bed. These and a lot more flicked past. He stopped at a big boulder sticking out of the dirt and sat down. Why couldn't he keep that boy out of his mind? He meant nothing. Nothing.

With a sigh he started to walk again. He must admit that there was a fire inside him when he thought about the other boy, something that simply wasn't there when he thought about his girlfriend. That was not a good sign. Thinking about her glorious face when she was flying, he had to admit that she was very attractive, and that he cared for her a lot. But did that made him want to kiss her? He swore and kicked a pebble off the path. The answer to that question was, sad to say, very clear, and not that encouraging. He thought about the latest week, and his continuous excuses to why Ginny couldn't come to his place. About how he made sure that they were never left alone when they were at the Burrow. Maybe it was time to face the bitter truth. Ginny was funny, pleasant, and beautiful – all in all the girl of his dreams. But... he was no longer in love with her.

Lunch was delicious, as always at the Burrows, and if anyone realised that Harry was unusually silent, no one said anything. When they all were finished Harry took Ginny aside and suggested a walk. There was really no need to postpone, better get it over with so he could go home and be miserable over how he broke up the meant-to-be. They took the same path as he walked earlier, both in silence for a time. Then Ginny spoke up.

“Looking forward to the game next Saturday?” The expectant smile on her face showed clearly that she did.

“Yeah...” Realising that she was talking to him he forced a smile. “Of course I do.”

“You were somewhere totally else.” She smiled. “You've got a load on your mind today, care to share?”

“I guess so. I'm just not sure how to explain...” No, how do you explain that your love has ended? How to give reasons for that, when all circumstances indicates that you should feel love? Everlasting love, even.

With a flick of her head she shook out her hair behind her. “Give it a try. We have a lot of time.”

“Okay, I'll try. But I'm not sure it will be particularly successful.” Taking a pause he drew a deep breath. “When we met we were just kids. But we grew up together, and suddenly we were not just kids any more. And I found out that I cared very much about you.”

There was a glimmer in her eye. “Continue.”

“So, I've loved you a lot, and you are still, even a war later, kind and caring and exceptionally beautiful.”

She pressed her lips together. “Go on, please.”

“It's just... I mean...” He looked at her with a helpless face.

“Yes?”

“I've loved you extremely much, but I don't do that any more.”

There was a silence that stretched between them, Harry looking out over the fields and his until-now-girlfriend looked at him. Now she couldn't stop her lips from trembling, but otherwise she looked calm and matter-of-fact. A slight shake in her voice betrayed her though.

“You want to break up with me.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I'm afraid so. I wish it was any other way, but... It's just not right to go on like this.” He looked at her composed image and narrowed his eyes. “How come you're taking this so calm? I thought you would be upset. Angry.”

“If you had surprised me I might have been angry, but I'm not really that surprised. I've seen this coming for a while.”

“You have?” How come other people could see those things when he couldn't? The question was if she could figure out about Malfoy too, seeing how she had that insight into things. But no, it was so absurd, no one could believe that. He had a hard time getting his head around it himself, and he was one of the participants.

“Yes. It hasn't been that hard to see. It started at your party, where you took really _any_ possible way to get away from me. It was pretty transparent. And since then it has been a thousand small things, if you just knew what to look for.”

He looked out over the fields again, and in the corner of his eye he could see that Ginny did the same. They stood in silence for a bit, until she spoke up again.

“I don't know why I'm not angry. I'm just... mostly sad... and I have this feeling that this was inevitable. This is out of my hands, and there is nothing I can do to make a difference.” She sighed and looked down on her hands. “I can't understand that I'm not angry. It would have been nice to be angry now.”

“If there's any consolation I'm extremely thankful that you're not. Or maybe that was another reason for you to get angry...”

A weak smile could be seen on her face. “Maybe.” She turned serious again. “There is one thing I want to know though. And I want you to answer honestly.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“Is there another girl? I don't want to hear the gossip, I want to hear it from you.” Now she looked straight at him.

This was tricky. If he should split hairs there was actually no _girl_ involved in any way, and that was what she was asking after all. And he really didn't want to admit that he had cheated on her, there was no need to hurt her like that. Especially as the other boy meant nothing to him.

“No. No girl.”

“You hesitated.” A single line appeared between her brows.

“It's complicated.” When she started to say something undoubtedly irritating, he held up a hand. “But it's not as you think. I promise you that there's no girl involved the way you're asking for.”

For a moment she looked as if she was going to inquire into the last part of it, but then she sighed instead. “You better not be lying to me. I don't think I can take that right now.”

“I'm sorry, Ginny. Really sorry.” It was so tempting to come clean now, admit it all and get it off his chest. But no. Maybe at a later occasion, right now it would only make things even worse, and it was bad enough as it was. He held out a hand for her, and she grasped it tightly. Looking at her he wished he could hold her, but something held him back, this was not a good time. They were standing in silence, holding hands, and suddenly it felt like his heart was breaking. What was he thinking, this was Ginny after all. His Ginny. He couldn't just leave her like this. He could see a lot of Ginny’s pass by in his mind's eye; standing outside Hogwarts the day of the Last Battle, coming out of a dive on the broom, in the morning, laying next to him...

Uninvited came the thought of a totally different body next to him, memories of another pair of lips, of other hands. Just as suddenly were all pictures of Ginny gone, and he knew that even if they had a lot of important memories together, they did not have a future. Breaking up was hard, but since the love was over and gone there was really no other course of action.

“Will it make any difference if I ask you for a second try? To try to find our love again?” She was fully composed now, talking with honesty and the look in her eyes was calm.

“No. I'm sorry.” He was sorry. He heatedly wished that they could find their love again, but he knew that it was irreparably over and gone. So now he just stood and stared at her, not sure what to do next.

“I thought so. You wouldn't do something like this on a whim.” Now she looked dejected, and she slowly put her arms around her, as if keeping herself from literally going to pieces. “In that case I think I want to go home. And I think it's better if you don’t come with me.”

“Of course.” Inside he welcomed this, he just wanted to be alone right now. The magnitude of what he just had done started to catch up with him, and this was not something he wanted to share. Especially not with the Weasley family.

She started to turn away, but stopped, looking at him uncertainty. “Do you think you might want to talk to me tomorrow?”

“I'd love to.” The perpetual question was hidden inside her words. “ _Can we still be friends?”_ That was the way he liked it to be. No way that he wanted to lose Ginny, he just not wanted her... in _that_ fashion.

“Well, bye.”

“Bye.”

Their goodbyes were short, even abrupt. But what was left to say? He stayed where they had been standing, looking after her as she disappeared over the fields. It was done, it was official. He was no longer in a relationship. Heaving a big sigh he turned on the spot, and appeared a moment later at 12 Grimmauld Place.

  
o O o

  
Saturday dawned with a glittering sun and a mischievous wind, enough to make flying a bit more challenging but not hard. For a second Harry wished that it was he out there, flying for a professional quidditch team. But he reminded himself that he had his chance, and he turned the offer down. Because no matter how exhilarating it would be to fly as his main occupation, there was something he wanted more. And, yes, when he got the offer from the Auror office he sure didn't turn that down. That was what he wanted to do with his life. Hermione had tried very carefully to point out that he had more or less been an Auror since he was eleven years old, wasn't it time to do something else with his life? She didn't understand. People generally didn't. It had nothing to do with the adrenaline rush of hunting down bad guys, neither with a heightened sense for right and wrong.

It was simple, really: he started something, and he had to finish it. That day in the Great Hall, when he raised his wand and uttered the most important spell he had ever cast, maybe even in recent history, something happened. He was standing there, it was over, but the death toll was too great to handle. And right there, his life shifted into new tracks. The people believed in him, they followed him, they died for him. And this was the outcome. It was not about a fancy job, it was penance. He had told this country which way to go, and it wouldn't be acceptable if he didn't walk that way himself. Kingsley understood. He didn't agree, but he knew how it was to have a big responsibility, and the hard work which is needed to give normal people their lives back. Suddenly he wondered if Malfoy would understand.

Malfoy. The tickling sensation in his stomach that usually accompanied the thoughts of the blond boy was there again. As usual the thoughts were browsing through the memories; about kisses, soft skin and a discreet kind of bliss. But right now they centred around that wonderful smile. He couldn't remember ever seeing Malfoy smiling like that, all he had seen so far had been sneers and disdainful faces. But that smile of his, it just made Harry dissolve inside.

It hinted about hidden things that made Malfoy happy, secret things that he may or may not share with you. Suddenly Harry's thoughts came to a halt. He wanted Malfoy to be happy. And not as an ambiguous thing, he wanted to be there, to give him those things that he needed to be happy. That was a strange thought, and he hurried to push it away. The latest weeks he had been practising on pushing unwelcome thoughts away, and he was developing quite a skill. He had to. Thinking about Malfoy all the time would have made him insane sooner or later.

He got breakfast, and then he headed off for the quidditch game.

There was a lot of people, but of course he saw Ginny and her brothers first thing as he arrived. They seemed not to have spotted him, so he tried to blend in with other bystanders.

He didn’t want to see Ginny right now. The unsure “ _May we talk?”_ had turned out to be “ _May we talk morning, midday, afternoon, and night?”_ And he was getting a little sick of it, no matter how much he wanted to keep her as a friend. Especially as one of her favourite topics was their crashed relationship in detail, and what went wrong. Those times he was closest to coming clean, telling her all about Malfoy. But then he saw how heartbroken she was, and he kept quiet.

Point is, he didn’t want to talk to her now. They sat down and he went a decent distance away before he started to climb the stands himself.

As he came up and started to scan for a place to sit, his eyes fell on Malfoy sitting there, not aware that he was being watched. He seemed to be alone, watching the game by himself. And today – so was Harry. Suddenly something happened inside him. Everything got so clear, so sharp, and it was like the whole world turned a little bit, and clicking in place like when you finally solve a puzzle. It was as if he had been drunk before, and now he had sobered up, able to see things clearly. There was an empty seat next to Malfoy, and why not? He had an elevating feeling of boldness. An awoken insight inside him told him that some things were just meant to be meant to be good. With a smile on his lips he walked over to the other boy.

“Draco? May I sit here?”


End file.
